


Last Voyage

by IndigothRabbitzi



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcoholic Tendancies, Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Interspecies Romance, M/M, MerMay, Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, Near Death, Romance, Sailor!Hank, Self-Hatred, Siren!Connor, Sirens, Starvation, inaccurate mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 02:12:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19097656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigothRabbitzi/pseuds/IndigothRabbitzi
Summary: Hank Anderson, old sailor who sees the remainder of his life as pointless, has set out on his final journey: a single voyage out to the first island he can find. With him, he’s packed enough booze to drink himself to death, assuming other natural ways don't beat him to it. Connor, renown siren who has ended the lives of many horrible people, men and women alike, and who happens to be on the brink of starving to death, is rather thrilled to hear the distinct sounds of a boat floating along the water. As he surfaces and begins to sing his beautiful lullaby once again, he’s got no clue how the approaching man will affect him.**Re-posting because I'm a big dummy dumb and forgot to change the publish date and some tags!





	Last Voyage

**Author's Note:**

> Taking a break from my multi-chapter Reed900 story to work on a MerMay HankCon one-shot instead! Even though it's,, not MerMay anymore. Let's just call this an au and move on with our lives. 
> 
> Mind the tags above, as this story, while eventually taking a happy turn, does involve descriptions of depression, the effects of it, suicidal thoughts, etc., so click off if any of that bothers you! Also, there is a bit of "inaccurate mythology", as Connor was raised differently from other sirens. 
> 
> With all that being said, I hope you enjoy!

↤↤↤↤↤ -x- ↦↦↦↦↦

_Your fault. It's all your fault._

The same thought spun around Hank Anderson's head, on repeat for...for how long now? Months? Years? Time had long since blurred together for the man. In reality, it had been years since the... _incident._ Somewhere, deep down, he knew for a fact that it _wasn't_ his fault. Not entirely, anyway; one can only try and prevent the damn weather so much (spoiler, nobody can _prevent_ the weather, something he really desired to shove down a few individuals' throats).

"Fuck," he grumbled, popping the top off of another beer bottle. He took a swig of it immediately, leaning against one of the poles of his prized boat. As it floated over a small wave, every discarded bottle on the floor rolled around and clanked together. Hank grunted, kicking a few of them out of his way as he staggered toward the steering wheel. The bottles he kicked smacked up against the other three cartons, those of which were full of various types of booze, the sound that echoed afterward only serving as a grim reminder to the man. This was not meant to be a fun, laid-back cruise to take off the edge of his worries. No, that never worked. Those worries, coupled with the awful thoughts and the repetition of "It's your fault", would always, without fail, find a way into his frail mind.

Instead, this was meant to be his final journey. Hank hadn't said a word to anyone before leaving his small home town; he simply purchased as much alcohol as he could afford and sailed away for the last time in the dead of the night. He'd not packed anything else. No food, no water, no spare or extra clothes. Nothing but the clothes upon his back and the shit ton of drinks he'd bought. In short, he hoped, very desperately, in fact, that he would die that same night.

Of course, his plan did not go as expected. Somehow, the sailor had managed to go a day and a half without _much_ of an issue. Hank had experienced headaches, other bodily pain, and almost extreme amounts of hunger and thirst (more than likely brought on faster due to the fact he'd consumed nothing but wine, vodka, beer, and any other type of alcohol he'd gotten his hands on). All of this vaguely irritated him, but nothing managed to piss the man off more than the fact that he hadn't perished yet.

"I'd take anything at this point." Another gulp of his drink, followed by a groan. "Falling into a coma, fuckin' getting...swept away...god damn _anything._ "

Anything to get him off of this god-forsaken planet would be welcomed at this point.

As Hank finished off that bottle and tossed it across the boat, it clattered against the others that were littered along the floor. Almost instantly afterward, however, another sound caught his attention. It seemed to be...singing? Was that correct?

"No fuckin' way."

Hank wasn't the superstitious type. He didn't believe in ghosts, myths, any of that trash, really. If anything, they were simply cheap entertainment for the man. Nothing more, nothing less. Now that he was hearing the distant sound of singing, however, he couldn't shake the idea from his mind.

"Fuck it. What's it gonna do, kill me?" The man chuckled as he grasped his steering wheel, shifting the boat's direction toward said singing. "God damn, I hope so."

↤↤↤↤↤ -x- ↦↦↦↦↦

Sunlight from the mid-afternoon sky shone down upon the water. It cast onto the rocks and bounced down into the opening and the center of them, illuminating the usually-shaded area. In the center of this opening sat a single, almost flat rock, covered in water usually due to the gentle waves flowing over it now and then. At the moment, however, said water had a different source; instead of the waves, something lay upon the rock. At first glance, one would probably mistake the figure for a simple man. If stared at for long enough though, this would very quickly become debunked. This "man" had bright blue scales across his shoulders, forearms, and cheeks. A set of gills was on his neck, and his ears were longer, tinted blue on the ends. In addition to this, instead of legs, he had a shimmering, scarred tail of the same color, that of which was missing a large chunk out of the left fin. More scars dotted various parts of his body, each one from a rather difficult fight he'd had with, for lack of a better term, feisty prey. Truth be told, this wasn't a man at all; the creature that sat upon the rock was a siren. A siren who, like most of his kind, had a deep-rooted, primal urge to lure in unsuspecting people and feed off of them; but also, a siren who had been raised differently from that. He'd been taught to lure in people, yes, but only kill those who seemed like truly awful individuals (murderers, rapists, kidnappers, etc.). 

Another aspect that made him unlike most of his kind, though, was that he lived in a fairly uninhabited area, and struggled to find food. He was much too weak to relocate due to the missing part of his tail, which made it nearly impossible for him to venture more than a few miles away from his current living area. When not luring "sea devils", as his mother had once referred to them, into his attack range, he would feed on most fish in the area; however, he had been there so long that he'd witnessed many of the fishes' food supplies run low, or run out entirely. Naturally, this meant the fish found new places to live, and this did not surprise him; instead, he was disappointed in himself for not relocating to a new home, one with enough food to sustain him for the remainder of his life, much earlier. It was his own fault that he had gotten severely injured, and it was definitely his own fault that he'd cut his expected life-span in half.

Currently, the siren had taken to laying across the rock, allowing the sunlight to hit his back. He had gone far too long without food, nearing the middle of starvation for his species. Sometimes he forgot that it had been an entire  _month_ since his last meal. His belly grumbled continuously, a sound he was all too familiar with at this point, and he'd lost a significant amount of weight. He needed something, _anything_ to eat. If physically possible, he would consume the rock he loved to lay upon, if it meant survival.

Unfortunately, that wasn't possible, and as the first week of the second month began, he felt himself slowly losing his grip on reality. "Ugh..." He rolled onto his back, covering his soft, brown eyes with his left arm, and began to whimper. "I can't...I have to do it again...there's no other way." Slowly, he sat up, the arm he used to prop himself up shaking from the added weakness of starvation. Most of his kind would have long since had success with singing and capturing whoever came toward him; he, however, had no such luck, and singing for that month on end was beginning to take a toll on his vocal cords.

_Come on, Connor,_ he thought to himself, _you can do this. You have to do this. Maybe it'll be different this time..._ Connor cleared his throat and hummed a little, then sat up straight and pretty, and began to sing the same tune he always used in an attempt to lure "sea devils". The only difference, however, was that right now, he didn't particularly care if the person he attracted (if any) was bad or good; instead, he only cared that they had enough meat on their body to keep him alive for a little longer.

After a few hours of singing, voice being amplified by the rocks that circled around the one he sat upon, he heard a very familiar sound. He could distinctly hear a boat floating across the surface of the ocean, and it excited him so much that he nearly choked on his own voice. Quickly, Connor composed himself, continuing on with his plan. Within a few minutes, he watched as the boat came into view. Slowly, but surely, it passed by him and was haphazardly docked in the sand before the circle of rocks.

_Finally..._ Connor pivoted slowly, staring as the man piloting the vessel exited. He stumbled, and the scent of various alcohols hit the siren's overly-sensitive nose. He growled softly at this, as it only increased his hunger. _Oh, damn..._ His eyes, filled with raw, primal need, stared daggers into the man who was slowly staggering toward him. Once said man was close enough, the creature jumped into action; he swam up to the tiny beach, laid his head in his arms, and offered a charming smile. "Why hello there...what's a handsome guy like you doing in the middle of nowhere?" he questioned, flashing his sharp teeth as he grinned.

Hank didn't offer an actual answer. Instead, he chuckled softly, vaguely amused. Connor, on the other hand, was very much  _not_ amused, and he certainly didn't feel like toying with his potential prey.  

They simply stared at one another for a spell. Eventually, Connor grew impatient. He lunged at the man before him, slammed his whole body weight into his chest, and sent him tumbling to the ground. Before he could get a chance to react, the creature had his arms restrained, claw tips on his chest and teeth bared, ready to rip him to shreds the way he would...

Well, the way he would rip apart an awful person, frankly.

He was beginning to contradict himself. _Just do it! You need to eat. He's old, a drunk bastard, nobody will miss him._ And then, as if a switch was flipped, he had a completely different mindset. _Oh god, no! You can't! He probably has a family, he probably just got lost out at sea!_

While the siren seemed frozen in place, Hank found himself staring into the brown eyes above his blue ones. "Hey!" he shouted, deep voice rumbling in his throat and echoing in the circle of rocks around them. This startled Connor, who yelped and tumbled off of him, all sense of anger, hunger, and intention of killing the man gone, replaced with the fear that _he_ would perish at _his_ hands now, rather than the other way around, as he originally intended.

"Look...I know what you are," Hank grumbled, hiccuping a little. This threw Connor off, but before he could say anything, the man stood tall and continued speaking. "You're a myth. A legend. Something I didn't believe in until now... Well, here's the thing. Sirens kill people, right? Lure 'em over and murder them?" He leaned over the now-trembling figure below him.

Connor whimpered softly. "N-No, no!" The fear had now _completely_ replaced his primal need to eat. "I don't kill everyone. I only kill horrible people!"

"Horrible people?" The man glared. "The fuck are you talking about? Even if you were raised differently, there's still that primal need to murder whatever comes into your path."

"This... is true. But I don't listen to it!"

Hank laughed out loud at this. "Oh, fuck. Fine, I'll play your little game. What do you need? A confession?"

_A confession would...suffice, I suppose...wouldn't it?_ He nodded.

"Well, I'm bad." Hank laid down beside him, taking a drink from the near-empty bottle he'd brought off the ship with him. "So just kill me. Kill me for bein' bad."

He couldn't believe it. Connor couldn't fucking believe it. "I need more information. What _exactly_ makes you bad?"

"You don't know if I'm bad or not. You got my confession. In fact...why don't you just _assume_ I am and fuckin' end me, anyway?"

"That isn't how I live my life. I don't kill innocent people."

Hank cackled at this. "What are you, fuckin' four? Just man up and do it, pussy."

A whine passed the siren's lips. "Fine. What makes you evil, then?" He glared, irritated that he had to resort to questioning the man like he typically would when deciding if he had a victim in his hands or not. The man before him didn't answer, however. Connor thought that perhaps he hadn't heard him. "Hey, did you hear me? What makes you e-"

"I heard you, fuck." He simply downed the rest of his drink, then proceeded to lay there in silence for a few minutes. "It's personal."

"Who am I going to tell?" Connor sat up slightly, propping himself on his elbows.

Another moment of silence. "Yeah. I guess that's true..."

"So? What is it?"

"I killed my son."

Connor damn near choked on the shock from this. His pupils dilated, and he found himself growling slightly. _Perhaps this man is evil...perhaps I should kill him. Screw his reasoning behind that._ He tensed up, ready to strike again, but froze when the man began to cry slightly. _He's...crying?_ Now, he was just confused.

"I didn't mean to. The weather...the fuckin' weather changes so quickly, y'know... We were out fishing, for his birthday. It was such a nice day. And all of a sudden, out of god damn nowhere, here comes this massive fucking storm, right? Lightning, thunder, all that jazz. Makes the tides choppy. Before I could get him inside, he'd been knocked over the side of the boat. I couldn't do anything...I didn't have a life jacket for him. Not for me, either. I tried to get out and save him on my own, but I couldn't find him." Hank covered his face with his hands, attempting to conceal his now sobbing form. "Fuck, _fuck,_ I never should have taken him out that day. Maybe then I'd still have him..."

Without a second thought, Connor had scooted closer, draping an arm over the disheveled being. He was, honestly, quite depressed at the fact he had considered _killing_ this poor man (though, once he thought about it, it would almost be a mercy kill at this point). And then, he thought, _Maybe I could help him? I...doubt it, severely. But maybe..._ "What's your name?" he whispered, trying to divert the man's attention from the sensitive subject.

"Hank," he grumbled. He was slowly beginning to stop crying, but this made his voice come off as rocky and strange. "Hank Anderson..." He looked to the creature, eyes still filled with tears. "And...you? Do you even _have_ a name?"

Connor nodded. "Connor," he replied, smiling softly in an attempt at lightening the mood.

"Connor..." Hank snickered slightly. "What a strange name. I expected something Greek or some shit."

At this, he laughed. "No, no. My parents were much more interested in the modern names of humans than the Greek ones. I-" He was interrupted by the intense pain in his stomach, followed by the growling it produced alongside it. Connor whimpered and rolled back over, holding his head with both hands. _Fuck,_ he thought, curling into a little ball and cradling his stomach, _I have to eat...I'm going to die..._

Hank sat up and stared at him, concern filling his still-sad eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" he mumbled, reaching a hand toward the siren. Connor gently batted his hand away, however, not wanting to risk potentially turning on him to attempt to make a meal out of him.

"I'm...I'm fine!" he lied. A tear rolled down his cheek, dampening the sand beneath his face.

"That's a lie." Hank squinted. He had a suspicion, of course, but didn't want to jump to conclusions. "Look. I told you about _my_ problems. Tell me what's up with you."

Connor slowly looked toward the old sailor. "I'm starving," he whispered, fear filling his brown irises. "My species can go roughly two months without food. I've gone one month without it. I'm not going to last the other month, I'm too weak..."

"How can you be starving? Sirens eat other things besides people...or, in your case, evil pieces of shit, don't they?"

"Yes. We eat many species of ocean fish, but those fish are out of food of their own. They have migrated to a new place, one with lots of sustenance."

"Why don't you just move, too?"

"I can't!" Connor didn't mean to snap on Hank, but he couldn't exactly help it; his mental state had begun to deteriorate as a result of his starvation. "I'm missing a chunk of my damn tail. I can only go a few miles before I have to turn back and come to safety. There's no food within those few miles."

Hank ignored the creature's anger, knowing it was more than likely not his fault. "I'm sorry about that..."

"It isn't your fault," he mumbled. "I'm...I'm sorry for calling you here...I'm sorry for, you know-"

"Trying to make me a meal? Don't worry about it. Hunger does crazy shit to humans, I can't imagine what it does to beasts like you." A small smile crossed Connor's lips now, as he was slightly amused by the "beast" remark. In return, Hank smiled back at him. "How long can you live without being in the water?" he suddenly asked. This threw Connor off guard, yet also caught his interest.

"A few days. How come?"

"What if I brought you to my home town? There are plenty of fish there. You can live under the docks."

A tempting offer, but one that came with worry for Connor. He sat up a little, the pain in his gut residing slightly as he did so. "I would love to, but...wouldn't the humans that live there be terrified? We sirens don't exactly have the best reputation, you know..."

"Eh. My town doesn't notice things. I doubt they'd give a shit, honestly, as long as you don't kill anybody or something like that."

Connor's eyes lit up with excitement. "Then...then yes! Please! I'd love to!"

A chuckle came from Hank. He stood back up and lifted the creature, throwing him over his shoulder as he began to walk back to his vessel. "Alright then. I live roughly two days away from...wherever the fuck we are now. Think you can last that long?"

"I've waited this long. Surely I can go another two days."

"Yeah, I hope so." He sat Connor on the floor of the boat before pushing it away from the sand, then climbed inside and took out an oar. "Let's get going, then."

↤↤↤↤↤ -x- ↦↦↦↦↦

"Cnnha?"

Connor groaned, unsure of what he heard. His head felt like it was floating underwater. For the moment, he chose to ignore it, favoring the deep-sleep state he had succumbed to.

"Connor!"

Now, he jolted up, gasping as he did so. He looked up, finding himself staring at Hank. The man stood above him, a lopsided grin gracing his facial features.

"I thought you were fuckin' dead," the man mumbled. He offered his hand, and Connor took it, allowing Hank to help him sit up. The siren rubbed his eyes and proceeded to glance around, confused, yet intrigued by the fact they were no longer at the rock circle he had called home for so very long. Hank snickered at this. "We made it. Welcome to the docks."

"The docks...?" Connor gasped softly. "Thank you!" he cried, latching onto the sailor's legs. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he did his best to hug him. "Thank you so much!"

"Yeah, yeah, no problem. Just get in the damn water and catch some fish before you die."

Hank needn't say more. Connor leapt off of the boat and dove underwater, leaving the human alone. While the creature was busy, Hank took the time to tie his boat to the dock, that of which he climbed onto and sat upon, allowing his feet to remain in the water. He contemplated leaving to get his own food, but then thought it would be best to wait for the siren to resurface; there was no telling what kind of a panic he might cause, or what kind of panic state he might send himself in if he were suddenly alone. It took nearly an hour, but eventually, Connor resurfaced, licking the remainder of some meat from his lip. "Hank, I can't thank you enough for bringing me here," he stated, a smile crossing his lips. "I would have surely died, had I not met you."

"Yeah, well, I would've died too. Don't make a big deal outta it."

At this, Connor raised an eyebrow. "What? You're in decent health for a man of your age. Though, you could stand to lay off of the drinking."

Hank rolled his eyes. "I was trying to commit suicide, idiot," he mumbled. "I was hoping I'd drink myself to death. Then, when I heard your song, I figured, what the hell? Alcohol ain't workin', maybe I can convince it to kill me."

Silence fell between them. Connor frowned and rested his head on the low dock. "May I ask why?"

"You know why. Remember what I told you about my son?"

"How could I forget such a sad story?"

"Yeah. Well, that happened years ago. It just keeps spinning around my head, reminding me that if I'd been more careful...maybe I'd still have my son." He sighed softly, peering at Connor as he did so. "Deep down, I know it's not really _my_ fault. Sure, there are other things I should have done, like bringing life jackets. But...ugh. It just _feels_ like it's my fault."

Connor placed his clawed hands over Hank's, smiling up at him. "I know me saying 'it's okay' won't help you, but...honestly? It is okay. You're allowed to feel that way." He flicked his tail out of the water, splashing some on the man above him. "It must hurt still, yes...but don't you think you should at least _try_ to overcome it?"

"I have been. Though, I guess I can try _harder,_ " he grumbled. "You're right, I can't just...let it consume me."

"Exactly! Wouldn't it make people sad if you just suddenly vanished?"

Hank shook his head. "I don't really have friends. Or family."

"Well...it'd make _me_ sad."

"Ha! Funny joke. We've barely known each other for a couple of days. There's no way I've had any impact in your life."

"Need I remind you that, had you not shown up out of nowhere, I would have _starved_ to death?"

A pause, and then a nervous chuckle. "Oh, right..." Hank paused again to think for a second. "Well, I suppose Sumo would be depressed, too."

"Sumo?"

"My dog."

"What's a...'dog'?"

"You're kidding. You've never seen a dog?"

Connor shook his head. At this, Hank took his hand from under Connor's, pulled his phone from his pocket, and began scrolling through his photos. After a few minutes, he turned it around and presented the siren with a photo of his beloved pet. An entertained smirk crossed his lips when he watched the creature's eyes light up.

"He's so cute!" he whispered, seeming to be in shock.

"Thanks." Hank put his phone back in his pocket. His eyes met Connor's, and they simply stared at one another. "So...you gonna make a little home under the dock or something?" he asked.

"Eventually. I'm going to be spending the next few days trying to get my system back in order."

"Smart."

"What about you? I bet you've got a home already, shouldn't you go to it?"

"Eh." He shrugged. "Not in a hurry or anything."

"What about your dog? You've been away for four days, he's probably hungry. You probably are, too. I noticed you didn't bring food on your boat." Connor tensed. "Granted, it makes sense now that you told me of your plan to...you know. But, still."

Hank frowned. "You gonna be okay on your own?"

"I think so. There's food, and I've located a temporary shelter for the next few nights."

"Well...okay, then." The man stood, causing Connor's hands to slide off of his and lay flat on the dock. "I'll check on you tomorrow, if that's fine with you."

He nodded enthusiastically. At that, Hank grinned.

"Tomorrow it is, then."

With that, the sailor was gone, and Connor was left to hide underneath the dock, on the sand deep below it.

↤↤↤↤↤ -x- ↦↦↦↦↦

The next morning had marked the beginning of a daily routine. Hank would wake up early, before the sun rose into the sky. He'd make his morning coffee, let Sumo out to do his business, and typically found himself peering out the window of his kitchen. Once he'd woken up all the way, he would get dressed. The rattle of his leash always grabbed Sumo's attention, to which he barked in excitement. Then, together, they would take a long walk to the dock to check on Connor, who was always thrilled to see the duo and was always eager to give advice to the man, if he had any. If not, they'd simply talk and enjoy each other's company. After spending hours together, Hank would say his temporary farewells to Connor, bring Sumo back home, and head off to work at his newly-acquired part-time job. This would leave Connor alone throughout the night; on an occasion, the human would come visit again after work, albeit not for long, as he was typically very exhausted afterward.

Today was no different; same exact routine, just with a month's worth of time having passed before it. "We're goin' for a walk," Hank grumbled as he attached the leash to his companion's collar. "To the dock we go, boy."

Sumo lead the way, almost breaking the door down as he pulled his owner through it with him. They strolled around the town, passing by the same shops which had yet to open for their day of business. Hank yawned. He was tired of seeing the same structures and buildings each day. As they came toward the dock, however, a smile crossed the man's lips. It always made seeing the same shit so worth it.

As if on cue, Connor surfaced, grasping onto the dock's edge as he flipped his tail in excitement. "Hank!" he cried happily, already thrilled to see the human.

"Hey there, Con," Hank called back, voice still a little gravely. He stood a ways back as Sumo stepped forward, sniffing Connor's face. The siren grasped the dog's cheeks and pet him gently, giggling when he dragged his tongue over the scaly part of his face. At this, Hank found himself smiling. "Aw, look. He still likes you."

"I'm glad he does." Connor gestured for the man to sit, and when he did, he hoisted his mid-section onto the dock and laid down beside him. "How are you?" he asked, resting his head in his hands.

The man shrugged. "Doin' better, I guess." He stroked Sumo's fur as he spoke. "You look like you're doing better, too. Seems like you've put on a little weight."

Connor nodded. "I have. I've gotten back to eating semi-regularly. My strength is coming back, as you can see." He gestured to the fact he had lifted himself onto the dock without any help, to which Hank nodded in approval and pride.

"You buildin' a home under there yet? I know you said you were going to have to hold off on it longer than you wanted to."

"I've started on it. It isn't anything spectacular, just a pile of rocks around some seaweed at the moment."

"Sounds...cozy."

He laughed. "Maybe not to you, but it's the best I've had in a while." His scales shimmered in the pale light as the sun began to rise, something Hank always found so beautiful and enticing. "I don't mean to complain, and maybe it's just a siren thing, but I _do_ wish I had a rock, or... I don't know, something to perch on."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

"So I can sing."

"Kid, you can't be doing that. The town's only just now getting used to your existence. Don't fuck it up by summoning shitty people."

"Hey! I know other songs!" Connor's shiny cheeks puffed out in annoyance. "We typically learn one single song to lure people. Anything else I sing _usually_ doesn't bring anyone over."

"Usually?"

"I can't help that some people are curious."

Hank snickered at that. "Shit, I guess that's true. People are weird."

"Exactly."

They sat there without speaking for a while, simply appreciating the rising sun and the sounds of the calm ocean. Finally, Hank broke the silence. "I guess you could flip my boat over and use it as a...perch, or whatever the hell you want to call it."

Connor blinked from shock. "Don't you need that? You're a sailor, an adventurer! You need your vessel."

"Nah," the man replied, shaking his head. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I'm getting too old for that shit. And do I really need to be out in the middle of nowhere, alone, with my sometimes suicidal thoughts?" He rolled his eyes. "No, I don't. I was going to sell it, but...you'd probably get more use out of it than any wannabe seaman out there."

"Really?" Hank nodded, to which Connor smiled brightly, his sharp teeth being revealed as he did so. "Oh, thank you, Hank! You're so kind."

"Yeah yeah, whatever, just flip it over and get it set up."

"Alright."

The siren splashed back down into the water, proceeding to flip Hank's once-beloved boat over and untie it from its hold. He brought the vessel a few feet from the dock, then dove down with the rope in hand. Within a few minutes, he resurfaced and tugged on the boat; it only went so far, and once it reached its limit, it floated back in place. Connor seemed satisfied by this, as he swam back to the dock with a thrilled look on his face. "There we go. Now I have a sufficient object to lay on."

Hank smiled down at him. "That's good," he replied. Even Sumo seemed happy for the creature, as his tail was thumping against the planks of the dock. The man stared at him somberly, sad that it was already nearly mid-day. "It's that time again, Con. I'll have to go."

He frowned at this, brown eyes filling with depression. "Will you come back tonight?"

"I'll try to. No promises." That wasn't a lie; showing up at night was very difficult for Hank to do. That was not only when he was tired from work, but it was also usually when his depression hit him hard. Yes, he was working on bettering himself, but his progress was slow, and his depression had developed a pattern for the time being. He was typically a happier person in the morning. Connor was aware of this, and because he was aware, he worried each night for Hank's safety. He knew that if anything were to start happening to the man, he'd never be able to do anything to prevent (or at least _lessen_ ) the outcome.

As he stood, Connor grabbed at his fingertips. "Hank, please, don't go," he begged, tears forming in his eyes. "Not yet. Please, not yet..."

"I can't stay here all day. I _do_ have a part-time job now, you know."

"I-I know! I know, but-"

Hank leaned back down, cupped the siren's cheeks in his palms, and leaned close to him. "Connor. I'll be okay." He traced his fingertips across the shimmering scales on his face. "I'll be okay."

"You don't know for sure," he whimpered back, placing both of his hands over one of Hank's and leaning into that hand. He sniffled and closed his eyes as he mumbled to himself.

"Con, I _will_ be okay." Without thinking about it, he planted a kiss on the creature's forehead. This startled him, and he looked up slowly, brown eyes filled with shock. Hank offered a small smile and, eventually, Connor smiled back.

"Okay..." He let go, tracing his claws gently along the back of the hand he had been holding and watching as Hank vanished with Sumo. Once they were out of view, he found himself smiling slightly. "Just like usual..."

↤↤↤↤↤ -x- ↦↦↦↦↦

As night began to overtake the small down, Connor found himself anxiously chewing on some fish he had captured. It wasn't even out of hunger at the moment; rather, it was from fear. He knew Hank had said there was no guarantee he'd be able to come visit him a second time that day, but something told him he would find a way. The siren finished up his snack, then laid his head against the dock. "Hank...where are you?" he whispered, tail coiling around one of the poles holding the boards up.

Hours passed, and Connor was becoming tired himself. He struggled to keep his eyes open. _Damn...I'll have to rest soon._ Just as he was about to give up and slink underneath of the dock, the light of a flashlight illuminated the boards of wood. He jolted awake and stared directly at it, like a deer caught in headlights. As it approached, Connor became excited. He recognized the figure behind it instantly.

"Hank!" Connor pulled himself fully onto the dock, tail and all. "I knew you'd come back tonight, I knew it!"

"You did, did you?" Hank laughed at this. "Quiet down. You'll wake the whole ass town up if you keep that volume goin'." He sat beside Connor, who covered his mouth in embarrassment.

"I apologize," he stated in a lower tone. The two sat close together, Connor's cold, scaly tail pressed against Hank's warm thigh. "How was work?"

Hank shrugged. "Decent. Not great...but not bad, either. Just work is all."

"Did it mess with your mood?"

"Nah, not anymore than usual."

"That's good."

They sat in silence, content with the lack of sound for the moment. Connor leaned over, pressing his cheek against the human's shoulder as Hank placed his hand over the siren's. He looked up at the man, taking in the appearance before him; the moonlight shining down on Hank seemed to make his hair and eyes glow, make him sparkle even. It softened his features, made his entire body look more calm and relaxed, and just overall made the man more beautiful than he already was.

"Hank?" he whispered, just barely to where the man could hear him. Hank glanced down, eyebrows raised in interest.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever experienced love?"

Hank tensed momentarily. "I have," he responded. "It was only for a few years, and it ended after my son's death. But, still. What makes you ask that?"

"I don't think I've ever understood it until now."

They stared at one another now, mutual confusion being shared between them. Hank appeared to be stunned, something Connor wasn't sure he knew how to handle. _Oh no,_ he thought, shrinking under the man's gaze. _I've fucked up this time._

"Con, are you saying what I _think_ you're saying?" Hank finally asked, stunned appearance fading into one of curiosity.

Connor scooted a little closer, tail thumping against the boards of the dock. "Perhaps." He smiled sweetly, yet slyly. "What is it you think I'm saying?"

"That you love me. Like a dumbass."

Now he blushed, all signs of cockiness and confidence gone. "Yeah," he mumbled, placing a hand over one of his cheeks. "I do. If that makes me a dumbass, I don't want to be intelligent."

Hank looked at him, squinting at the creature. "Well, I guess it's a good time to tell you that you're not alone."

"Not alone?" He tilted his head, scales gleaming in the moonlight. "What do you mean?"

"Jesus, are you actually an idiot?" The man slapped his palm over his face. "I fucking love you too, moron."

Connor nearly squealed in his sudden excitement. He couldn't believe it.  _Is this a joke?_ he thought, genuinely confused.  _He can't be serious... he just can't be._ "Oh, Hank, you don't have to lie to me. I can take the tru-"

"I'm not lying," he barked, interrupting the confused creature. "I'm serious, Connor." 

"You... are?" He diverted his attention to the ground momentarily, then slowly started back up at Hank. "Prove it," he quietly demanded. 

Hank stared at him in shock. For a second, it was silent. Then, suddenly, he grasped Connor's jaw, pulled his face close and, albeit hesitant at first, pressed their lips together. This startled the siren, causing his cheeks to turn red. His tail thumped against the dock out of excitement, and when Hank pulled away from him, he let out a short, tiny groan. 

"There's your fuckin' proof." The man grinned as he took in the sight of Connor being so embarrassed, yet thrilled. He watched with amusement as the siren traced over his own lips with his claws, as if he couldn't believe what had happened. "So, what do you think?"

"I've... never been kissed before," Connor admitted, cheeks taking on an even darker red. "It was pleasurable. A nice experience."

"Do you want to do it again?"

"Please."

So, they did. Hank leaned forward, and Connor initiated the action now, grabbing the human's cheeks as he pressed their lips together for a second time. He draped his tail over Hank's knee as he pulled away momentarily, opening his mouth to take a small breath, but the man before him took that as another opportunity all together; Connor was taken aback when Hank slipped his tongue into the siren's mouth, and had to resist the urge to giggle when he felt him twitch anytime his tongue hit one of his sharp fangs. Eventually, they pulled away from one another, staring into each other's eyes in silence. 

"Connor, you're wonderful," Hank murmured, stroking his hair. "I'm glad it was you I stumbled upon. Not a normal siren, who would've just killed me right there."

Connor nearly purred at this. "I'm glad you found me too, Hank." He reached up and simply held the man's face, enjoying the way his beard felt between his fingertips as he played with it. As he did this, the man relaxed, allowing his thoughts to wander for a spell. Soon, he realized he needed to go home for the night. Sumo needed food, and he needed rest. 

"Well," he began, standing from his position,  "it's that time of the night."

"Already? Aw, but Hank, it feels like you just got here..."

"I know, Con. But we both know if I don't get my sleep, it won't be pretty tomorrow." He patted the siren on the head. "Go on ahead back into the water. I don't want you suffocating overnight."

As Connor leapt onto the depths of the water, Hank began to contemplate things. Things he didn't have the answers to...but things he  _needed_ the answers to. 

"Will you stay here long?" he suddenly called, only being able to hope Connor would hear him. 

The siren peaked back up from the water. "Huh?"

Hank was hesitant to speak at first. "Will you be staying here long? Or will you be vanishing to go to new places?" he asked after a few seconds of silence. 

"Hank, as much as I want to explore, I really can't." Connor held his tail up as a method of proving his point. "Besides...you let me flip your boat over. It's completely waterlogged. Even if I could go out and explore, you wouldn't be able to come. It's just not worth it otherwise."

The man's expression softened slightly. "So, does that mean you'll stay here, stuck with me?"

"Yes, Hank." Connor nodded, smiling at the human before him. "I will. I will stay here."

At this, Hank smiled back. He nodded, and add he turned away, he said something that eradicated Connor's nightly worries. 

"I'll stay here too, then."

↤↤↤↤↤ -x- ↦↦↦↦↦

**Author's Note:**

> I almost couldn't stop adding on to this. I have so many ideas for it. Maybe I'll write some short stories that branch off of it? 
> 
> Throat punch the kudos button and drop a comment down below if you like my work, it really helps me out 🖤


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